He frowned. “Not all smart people get degrees, and not all people with degrees are smart, as hard as that might be for you and your community to accept.”

I couldn’t let Drew know what was going on in my head. The value I’d assigned to college education was ingrained in me, not how I wanted to feel. Not how I truly felt, deep down. Right?

I refused to drag him into this shit. My shit.

“I’m just sad that it might’ve been something you wanted but weren’t given the opportunity,” I said carefully. Truthfully.

He sighed. “At the time I wanted it because it felt like… like I would be dooming my future if I didn’t, because that’s what society tells us. But then we didn’t have the money and I was scared of all the loans that would accrue, and given that there was something else I loved and wanted to do more…”

“Did you want to go to art school?”

A shadow crossed his face. “Why, because everyone needs higher education?”

I mentally kicked myself. Hard. Why did I keep making things worse? He was trying to show me who he really was, trying to take a huge step and share his work with me like I’d asked, and I was turning it into a minefield.

“No, of course not. I’m sorry,” I said, because that was safest.

He squeezed his eyes shut briefly. When he opened them, his face relaxed a hair, and he answered my previous question. “Art school had crossed my mind, but I never considered it seriously. I didn’t have the time or resources. My parents kicked me out, and my greatest concern was figuring out how to feed myself and get a roof over my head.”

I thought about telling him he could dream, and if he wanted to have those art opportunities, he should, but it would also sound like I was telling him he needed more education.

I was stuck between a shítóu and a hard place.

So I focused on the reason we were here: the amazing step he was about to take if he was still willing.

“I am in awe of you, Drew Chan,” I said. Then I tilted my head in the direction of the nearest towel-covered chair. “Do you still want to?”

I held my hand out, palm up.

Drew CHAPTER 42 CHÁNG’É

I took her hand. And told myself to put that conversation behind us. She had reacted… okay… and, well, okay.

Part of me wanted to wait to show her my work because this moment felt tainted now, but I also didn’t know if I’d be able to do it later. The confidence I’d felt earlier when I’d texted Marshall seemed like a dream. One I might never have again.